Back To You
by Just.A.Girl-Just.A.Boy
Summary: 1x13 Mary's thoughts as she confesses to Bash her stronger love for Francis. Watch the two reunite at the bottom of the stairwell all of the way up to the petals falling down at their wedding. Frary.


Back To You

Disclaimer: I unfortunately do not own either Reign or the Twin Forks' Back to You.

1x13 Mary's thoughts as she confesses to Bash her stronger love for Francis. Watch the two reunite at the bottom of the stairwell all of the way up to the petals falling down at their wedding. Frary.

_I follow signs, I know they wind right back to you._

"…But I love Francis more."

Now that she had said it aloud, she knew how strong that sentiment rang true. Here before her stood a true man: one who smelled of the forest and the winter air rather than the palace's floral bath soaps, one with calloused hands and fingers from practicing with swords, one who was more than willing to put her, Mary, a single person, above a whole country. He would risk his own life by storming into a poison filled room if that meant saving her. Bash would kill for her, would die for her, and would rather watch a nation crumble if it would mean that he could hold her hand for just one more day.

Yet, as she stared at the broken man before her with the most caring green eyes she had seen, all she could think is that she wanted blue. She wanted blue eyes with golden hair falling down in waves. She wanted the skinny man in the tall boots who all of France thought was stunted and weak. She wanted the man who had deserted her; the one who always left her with tears streaming down her face. The one who never knew whether to think with his heart or his mind until he looked into her eyes. She wanted the man who she always fought with, but who nonetheless, pushed her and made her think. Bash was certainty. Francis was hope, and lust, and passion, and freedom.

He was hers and she was his. They were Mary and Francis with no titles, countries, or crowns attached. She read all of these words and more when Catherine had handed her that blank sheet of parchment just moments ago.

Mary could not bring herself to look at Bash after she uttered those five words. He was right when he had said he wasn't Francis. And she was wrong when she said her heart was open. Ever since she had come back to French Court, the young Dauphin had already laid claim to it. No matter how hard she had tried, Francis always held a part of her heart in his hand and it would not let go.

She closed the door quietly behind her. Her heels clicked quickly down the marble staircase, and her legs began to run faster as she sited that blob of yellow at the end of the staircase. Tears soon followed as she smashed her lips against his. It did not take long for his hands to find their way into her brown waves and for her fingers to rest on his cheeks. And right then, in that moment with his hands around her waist, with their lips feverishly brushing against the other, Mary, just Mary, was at home. Scotland could barely be called a home with a mother whose encounters could be counted on one hand, and France was a place where swords and lies and alliances flew through the air. Right now, the lips brushing across her lips, the blue eyes looking into her brown orbs, the smile that slowly crept upon his face as they broke apart. Francis was her solace, was her rock, was her home.

Just several hours later with her sucked into a white dress and him in black, the two were pronounced husband and wife. Flower petals once again fell around them and all things circled back to this moment. Feathers were falling from pillow fights they had as kids, the look they shared as she twirled in her black dress at his sister's wedding. All of them were signs—signs greater than any prophecy that Nostradamus could bestow upon her or Francis or anybody. And as her skirt began to lift as she twirled and spun with Francis at her side, Mary knew that she had made the right choice. Everything, no matter how far she strayed, or wherever she would roam, she would find her way back into his arms, back into this embrace, and back into this moment. Francis suddenly entered her vision, as he plucked a white petal from her hair.

"Nothing has changed Mary," Francis whispered, "I will be here always, by your side, ready to face whatever may come at us: France, Scotland, my mother, your mother. I finally have back what is mine, and I hope that I will always be yours."

"I will always find my way back to you." Mary whispered back.

_Follow the signs right back to you__  
__Back to you, back to you__  
__I know they wind right back to you__  
__Back to you, back to you__  
__I trust the signs so I may find my way to you__  
__Back to you, back to you__  
__Follow the signs right back to you_

Author's Note: I hope that you all enjoyed this little fic. I think that this will only be a one shot, but tell me what you guys thought of it and where I should go with it should I continue. I'm considering continuing my other fanfic in this fandom, Free. I mainly ship Frary, but am open to other requests. Also, I am officially on Spring break now, so hopefully you will be seeing some more fanfics from me in the next couple of weeks. I can't wait for Dirty Laundry next week! Have a great day and feel free to share your thoughts!

Side note: Just in case any of you guys want to listen to the song, but are too lazy to look it up, here is the song used in the fic.

Twin Forks' Back to You: watch?v=yegf9ipzYHw


End file.
